Twenty years later, I haven't changed. My best friend still taunts me when I tune into Beaver. My boss makes fun of me having a bigger picture of Jerry Mathers ("The Beaver") displayed in my cubical than wife. My parents, who'd thought I'd grow out of youthful affection, still roll their eyes just as they did many years ago.
Yet, despite the years of ridicule, my fondness for Beaver hasn't wavered. What's more, as I've ventured out into the world, I've found that I'm not alone in my Beaver fanaticism. There are other people like me who regard Beaver as among the best of television. What the nay-sayers do not understand is why - what is it that makes Beaver so special?
Indeed, the mystery of Leave It To Beaver is its agelessness. Why, after all, is Beaver more popular now days than when it was first produced 40 years ago? Why is Beaver above its contemporary day competitors of Father Knows Best, The Donna Reed Show, and Ozzie and Harriet? Why, after all of these years, is Beaver still The Beave?
Leave It To Beaver still reigns today because the show presents ideal mix of a loving and caring family with healthy doses of the trials of youth. Leave It To Beaver was not a show about perfectionism, of parents who never failed and kids who always did as told. Mr. Cleaver made plenty of mistakes as a parent, and most of Beaver's troubles would have been avoided if he implemented the caring wisdom of his folks.
Rather, the agelessness of Beaver is the balanced stories between real and fiction, stories presented from a child's point-of-view that we relate to and idealize at the same time. We never forget that goofy little kid that was once a part of us. Beaver's tribulations were once our tribulations. Likewise, we can't help but laugh at the innocence of the Cleaver clan and imagine their low survival rate if they lived in our times.
Even in the crew-cut times of the fifties, the Cleavers were above and beyond typical family life. While Leave It To Beaver was not totally square (it was the first show in TV history to show a toilet), the Cleaver image was outside mortal grasp. Mothers did not clean houses in dresses and heels; fathers did not dine at the dinner table with neckties. However, this idealized portrait is an asset, and not a liability. As the sap of the Cleavers was thick, it never obscured the elements we relate and aspire to. Because of this delicate balance, the Cleavers grew into an icon of Americana.
Guiding the Cleaver clan was Ward Cleaver, the stable patriarch who could raise two boys without raising his voice. Compared to his TV contemporaries of the day, Ward wasn't the best father. He got mad, irritated, and occasionally gave bad advice. However, Ward was the most understanding father. Ward never forgot what it was like to be a kid, and often recalled the trials of his own childhood in allocating fair punishments. By the end of the show, Ward learned as much as his kids did.
Separate but equally important is June Cleaver, the American icon of motherhood. Her demeanor was unreachable in the 50's, and in the 90's, looks positively archaic. Her life is the fulfillment of every little girls' dream: goes to school, finds a good man and bears his young, and sets up a home, sacrificing personal ambitions for the greater good of the family. No other mother could clean house in a dress and choker necklace.
So, while we chuckle at the pretentiousness of June Cleaver, we always admire her feelings, for never was there a more self-giving and caring television mom. Her sway still holds true today. When Paramount producers were considering the upcoming Leave It To Beaver movie, Barbara Billingsley ("June Cleaver") was invited to serve them milk and cookies.
Of course, there was Beaver. Nick-named because his brother could not pronounce his real name of Theodore, Beaver became the American symbol of that cute little kid who wasn't trying to get into trouble, but trouble always managed to find him. Indeed, many of Beaver's tribulations are avoidable if not for his misplaced trust in his friends. His naiveté made him a prime target for goading among peers, once climbing a billboard for Zesto's soup (and getting trapped) to disprove his friend's contention of billboard cup of soup being full of real soup. Despite his setbacks, Beaver never fails to pick himself up, continuing down the road of life, sometimes wiser for the experience, and other times not.
Rounding out the Cleaver clan is Wally, the big brother we all wanted. To Beaver, Wally was the ambassador, translating the adult world to the kid world. When not explaining his parents, Wally also had his hands full as the protector, getting his kid brother out of trouble (although he sometimes dragged Beaver into it.) Although sometimes the pressures of having such a little goof for a brother got the better of Wally, he never abandoned his kid brother.
Besides being a good brother, Wally was an all-around nice guy. Athletic and good looking, but unpretentious, Wally was seldom a source of parental grief. Even Eddie Haskell had to admit that Wally "wasn't a clod."
Leave It To Beaver would not have been elevated to its heights without the insidious pleasure of Eddie Haskell. Voted one of the best 25 television characters of all time by TV Guide, his platonic politeness to adults and acid tongue to the rest is forever etched into our memories. Eddie delivers joy worth revel. Although Eddie gets into a fair bit of trouble, his specialty is getting other people into trouble for him. If there's work to be done, count on Eddie convincing others to do the work for him.
After Leave It To Beaver aired its last show in 1963, the cast members moved in separate directions. Hugh Beaumont (Ward Cleaver) was an ordained minister and active in movies and theaters all throughout his life, never to again duplicate his Leave It To Beaver success. Hugh Beaumont died in 1982 at the age of 72. Barbara Billingsley left TV and dedicated time to her own two boys. Tony Dow (Wally) joined the National Guard. Afterwards, he became involved in construction and did a few small TV spots. Nowadays, Tony is busy as the visual effect producer for Dr. Who and Babylon 5.
Like his TV brother, Jerry Mathers joined the National Guard and served six years, including service during the Vietnam War. (Somehow, I could never imagine Beaver as a bloodthirsty warrior shooting at the enemy.) Afterward, Jerry earned a degree in Philosophy from Berkeley, where he also hosted a radio program.
Perhaps because of his weasly character, there was a persistent urban legend that Ken Osmond (Eddie Haskell) become a porn star after Beaver. This would had certainly been a stretch for Ken's dedicated Christian values. After Leave It To Beaver, Ken started a helicopter business with his brother. Unfortunately, the business barely got off the ground, literally, when Ken crashed the copter, and the business went under. In the 80's, Ken was a Los Angeles traffic cop. Ken was shot in the line of duty, and quit years afterwards.
No matter what happens to the actors in real life, they'll always be the gang from Leave It To Beaver for me. The retroactive charm of Leave It To Beaver is the delicate balance of departing from the real world into a fictional family that could never exist, while simultaneously pulling us in with childhood themes touching our hearts. Like it or not, there's a little Leave It to Beaver in all of us.